Damn you, Barbie!

October 31, 2013 |

This morning, as I battled to tame her deliciously curly brown hair for school, Baby G very sadly uttered,

“Mama, I wish I had long, straight yellow hair and blue eyes.”

That one sentence halted my world, Matrix like. In the microseconds that followed, I was forced to swallow the bitter pill that was her first yearning to be something other than herself. That one sentence had the potential to become the first brick in the foundation of the hateful self-doubt jail that so many of us women have built and locked ourselves in. That one sentence needed to be faced, head on.

As I mentally beat Barbie to smithereens with a meat mallet and cursed Disney for Cinderella and Rapunzel, I dug deep for the right words to say to her.

I continued detangling her delicious ringlets as I enquired, “Can I ask you a question?”She nodded, as I continued, “Who do you think is the prettiest lady in the world?”

Crossing fingers and toes and praying to whoever might be up there listening, I waited.

Grinning, she exclaimed, “YOU are, Mummy!”

Exhaling, I grinned and pulled her on to my lap. “Well, Baby G,” I said, “do you know what makes me very very happy?”

Curiously, she asked, “What?”

I answered, “When I look in the mirror every day, I see my brown eyes and brown hair and I give myself the biggest smile, because they are the exact same colour as yours. I feel so happy because that must mean that I am beautiful, just like you!”

She gasped.

She looked at me again, this time much more closely, then she jumped up and grabbed the hand mirror. Looking from my face to her own, holding a strand of her hair against mine, she inhaled sharply and her eyes filled with wonder.

She put down the mirror and purposefully took my face in her two soft little baby-like hands and then she uttered words that will forever be diamonds in my memory bank.

With awe, she declared, “Mummy, we’ve got the same beautiful!”

If you liked this post, please share it with your friends using the icons below, and I’ll love you intensely if you comment, so please don’t be shy (comments make me do a happy dance). You can also join the fun on Facebook, Pinterest and Twitter.

If you would like to have They Call Me Mummy delivered to your inbox, fill in your email address below or in the sidebar. (I never share email addresses and I promise to never *gasp* SPAM you.)

[wysija_form id=”3″]

Like this:

Related

About Michelle Lewsen

Michelle Lewsen is a copywriter with 18 years’ experience and a few shiny advertising awards. Now, as mum to three highly entertaining and thoroughly demanding little people, she writes to make sense of her life as a stay at home mother.

Her hope is that by sharing her imperfect parenting, struggles with work-life balance and the often laugh-out-loud chaos that her Adult ADHD brings, other imperfect parents can visit theycallmemummy.com to exhale and say, “me too.”

They Call Me Mummy has been honoured with many awards, making her a very proud mama of this blog baby of hers. Most notably, she was honoured as a Voice of the Year by BlogHer in 2013 (“Inspiration” category) and again in 2014 (“Heart” category).

This blog captures her life. Sometimes warm & fuzzy, sometimes shriek-out-loud funny. In her spare time, she's been writing a series of children’s books, which are going to knock your socks off. Your kids are going to adore them, so watch this space.

Awwww! I must have done a great job brainwashing my daughter from the get-go (we of dark brown and brown) because she’s never dreamed of being blonde and blue and Mulan was always her favourite cartoon heroine! 😉 (With apologies to all those blonde-haired, blue-eyed ladies out there – you have feelings too and it can’t be very nice being the butt of all those dumb blonde jokes.)

Mari, you are my role model when it comes to role modelling for our kids. Your own love of life and love for yourself and your incredibly strong and positive expression of that is why your kids are so amazing. They learn from what you do, regardless of your words (which, I have no doubt, are eloquent and spot on).

I remember when my then 8 year old daughter, with her dark brown eyes, brown hair and olive skin, discovered Jasmine of “Alladin” fame. She was so thrilled to find a princess who looked like her. At 27, she still remembers the thrill of that discovery.

Oh my! This little conversation with your girl makes my morning and also makes you my hero for today! I know this is an older post, I’m coming in from Hump Day but this is just beautiful! I have an eleven year old daughter and I am constantly on high alert for signs she needs some positive reinforcement. Hard times, these pre-teen years. Good for you for starting early and keep up the great work!

Oh, I absolutely love it. Such a beautiful moment–you did a wonderful job turning that around. This brown-eyed, brown-haired mom with a brown-eyed, brown-haired daughter just got big tears in her eyes.

[…] why I would also like to say “Damn you, Barbie!” and also give you “15 reasons not to let Hollywood raise your kids“. […]

Subscribe!

Subscribe here and receive notifications of new posts by email.

you@email.com

Pleased to meet you

Welcome to They Call Me Mummy! My hope is that by sharing my less-than-perfect parenting moments, struggles with identity as someone other than The Mother and the often laugh-out-loud chaos that my Adult ADHD brings to my life, They Call Me Mummy can be a place where other imperfect parents can come to exhale and say, "me too."